


Things You Can't Say at Disney World

by allihearisradiogaga



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Amusement Park, Amusement Parks, Costumes, Disney World & Disneyland, First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allihearisradiogaga/pseuds/allihearisradiogaga
Summary: Genji Shimada is only okay at his job.  He's perfectly good at being a mascot, but his language is a little dirtier than a theme park full of children would normally hope for.  The best part of his job, however, is the good-looking Peter Pan who greets people across the way who he's quickly falling for.





	Things You Can't Say at Disney World

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know where this idea came from, but as soon as I had the spark of "oh my gosh these two as performers at Disney" I couldn't stop writing.
> 
> I love this little AU I have created, and I hope you do, too! It's a oneshot for now bc I'm busy but who knows what the future holds?

Genji Shimada was only sort of okay at his job.  He was good with the kids, that much was true; he was able to match their energy almost every time they came up to him, excited and reaching their grubby little hands upward at him and his costume.  He was able to pose well enough, too.  But his one problem, hiding within the Figment costume, was his uncanny ability to not stop swearing.

It wasn’t even the problem of not _talking_ —for the most part, he could keep silent during his shifts out meeting and greeting guests who were milling in line or mowing down on some seriously large turkey legs.  But then he’d stub his toe, or remember he forgot to pay his phone bill, or fall head-over-heels for the Peter Pan who was on the other end of the little square in the park where he was stationed, when he’d mutter a soft “fuck…” under his breath.

And to his credit, only some of the time did the kids hear him.

The problem was that when they did hear, him, they _really_ heard him.

“What’s that mean?” asked a five-year-old boy in a _Toy Story_ tank top that was hanging off of him in the Florida sun and a smear of chocolate around his mouth from where he had just been plowing face-first into a chocolate ice cream cone.

Genji, as Figment, didn’t answer.  Instead, he aggressively ignored the child’s question and tried his best to stay completely rigid as he faced the camera the kid’s dad was pointing toward them.  He breathed a sigh of relief when the child didn’t say anything else to him as they were posing.  As soon as the flash went off, the kid disengaged and ran right up to his dad, tugging on his cargo shorts as they walked away.

“Hey, Dad!” said the kid, “what cartoon is that dragon from, anyway?  And what’s a ‘fuck’?”

Genji sighed.  It was definitely going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

The Peter Pan didn’t notice that Figment was constantly staring at him as he fooled around with the kids and made jokes about how uncool adults were.  Genji found himself captivated by Pan’s smile, with shining teeth that almost always captured a laugh, and—despite his diminutive stature—arms with powerful-looking biceps peeking out of the short green sleeves of the costume.  He would dance around with the kids—the ones who liked to interact more with the character who actually had a movie they’d seen—and the pure _joy_ he seemed to radiate was addicting to watch.

But he was focused on the kids, which was great, because he didn’t notice Figment staring.  “Fuck…” muttered Genji to himself as he realized that he had already fallen hard for the Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up.

Tinker Bell, however, was less oblivious than her companion.

The pixie narrowed her eyes at Genji, and for a moment he began to calm up—a cold sweat different from the sweat that he felt all the time in this giant purple costume—and felt like maybe, just _maybe_ , she could see through the one-way mesh netting in Figment’s mouth to see him.  The stare called him a _pervert_ , and he felt a rush of shame when he realized that she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.  If admiring some Peter Pan mascot’s arms and smile and cheery demeanor and getting a warm and dizzy feeling in your chest was perverted, that was.

She approached him in the closet the higher-ups called a dressing room in the back of one of the Imagination buildings at the end of one of his shifts.  He was halfway through working the top half of the costume off, and he realized immediately how sweaty he was as Tinker Bell popped up behind him with absolutely no warning.

“’Ello there…” she began, a coy smile across her lips as she watched him slump the rest of his costume off onto the floor with much less grace than he would have liked.  “So _you’re_ the face behind Figment, then.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Tinker Bell…” he said, pushing his dyed hair backward into its normally-spiked position and noticing with distaste that he was even sweatier than normal today.

“Lena,” she said, holding out her hand to him briefly before noting the sweat and pulling it backward quickly.  He raised an eyebrow and a shoulder by way of apology.  “And you’re…?”

“Genji.  Genji Shimada.”

“Great, Genji Shimada,” she said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together.  “So, is there any reason you decided that Figment, in the way you play him, will be absolutely infatuated with Peter Pan?”

Genji could absolutely feel his entire face redden as she said this, and looked down to his sneakers, not wanting to catch Lena’s eye at all.  He wasn’t sure what it was that made her so bold, but it was intimidating as hell.

“I, uh…”

“Listen, Genji, I’m going to do this because you’re cute, I’m sappy, you’re a little pathetic, I’m a sucker for romance, and I’m not technically on break right now so I’ve got about thirty seconds before The Mouse realizes I’ve left my post: Pan’s name is Lúcio, he’s single, and he gets off at five.  He’ll eat anything, but his favorite is Mexican and it’s right across the park there.  I’ll make sure he’s got nothing on his plate for tonight.”

“Oh, well, I…” Genji stammered, but she was already leaving.

“Cheers, Genji, and good luck!”

She winked as she left, and he wasn’t sure if he loved her or hated her in that moment.  He was very sure that he was super sweaty, however, and that according to the little clock on his cell phone’s lock screen, he needed to be at his best in less than three hours.

* * *

He wore a shirt with a collar and sleeves rolled up to the elbows, but he wasn’t sure if he’d overdone it for a shitty restaurant at Epcot.  He waited outside of the Imagination center, leaning against a signpost and trying not to look as nervous as he was.  He crossed his arms, but that didn’t really work for him, and so he shoved his hands in his pockets.  This seemed unnatural, so he took them out and tried playing with his phone, but he realized that it looked like he didn’t really wasn’t interested, so he shoved it back in his pocket and was still trying to figure out how he would even approach Lúcio when someone tapped on his shoulder.

He turned around to see Peter Pan—well, it wasn’t Peter Pan anymore, because he was wearing a plain black tee shirt and _wasn’t_ wearing that weird little hat—grinning up at him, and Genji immediately felt like he could melt into that smile.  “Hi there, Genji, right?”

Genji felt his heart stop for a moment.  Lúcio was approaching _him_.  He wasn’t sure how to respond.  He knew that “yes” was probably the best response, or to acknowledge that he recognized him at all, give the man an affirmative, but the best that his lizard brain could spit out for him as his upper faculties sputtered out was “How’d you know it was me?”

Lúcio’s eyes flitted upward.  “Your hair is pretty distinctive, man.  Stands out.”

“Oh, yeah…” said Genji, rubbing at his elbow.  Lena must have told him who he was.  Which meant that a majority of the introduction scenarios—most of which he was going to initiate—could be thrown out of the window.  Lúcio had approached him first, and how he didn’t know what to say.  “I’m Figment.”  That probably wasn’t what he Should Have Said.  “Fuck.”

That last bit he had definitely not meant to say out loud.

But Lúcio was giggling, oh God, he was _giggling_ , and the way he half-covered his mouth and his shoulders shook almost made Genji drop another “fuck” instinctively due to how completely beautiful he was.  The way his deadlocks bounced off of his shoulders as he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled…

“Sorry…” said Genji, blush coming to his face again.  “You’re Lúcio, right?  I am Genji.”  He knew that he sort of sounded like a robot, and he regretted every moment of his existence up to this point.

“Alright, Genji!” said Lúcio, grabbing his hand although he hadn’t offered it, and shaking it as if he’d met a new friend.  “You ready for some nachos?  I know you’re supposed to be bringing _me_ out, but I’ve been talking about fairy dust since ten this morning and I’m freakin’ _starving_.”

Genji grinned.  He’d played it off.  He’d been cool about his nerves.  And his hand was a little calloused but so warm in his.  “Fuck yeah we’re getting nachos,” he said, catching the ire of a passing mother who ushered her son away from him.  He may have overdone the bravado coming out of that slump of awkward, he figured, but it was better than no recovery at all.

Whatever he had done, Lúcio seemed cool with it, because he grinned and nodded.  “Sweet.  Let’s go!”

Genji nodded and began walking toward the Mexico-land part of the park.  He began to talk, make small talk: “So, how long have you been Peter Pan?”

“A couple of months now,” said Lúcio.  “Recently got transferred from Magic Kingdom.”

“Oh, cool.  Welcome to Epcot, then,” said Genji.

“Yeah,” said Lúcio.  “What about you?”

“I started out in Canada, would you believe it?” said Genji.  “I was selling poutine.  Or, at least, I was until my br…  Until there was an opening for a mascot position.”

“You like it?”

“People like you better when you’re a seven-foot dragon with a permanent smile,” said Genji, “and it’s more…”

He trailed off because he realized for the first time, as they passed Showcase Plaza, that he had not let go of Lúcio’s hand since he’d taken it to shake it all the way back by the Imagination building.  That meant that Lúcio had transitioned seamlessly from a handshake to a hand-hold without any mention or protest.  Genji’s first thought was, _fuck, he’s smooth_ , and his second thought, coming very shortly thereafter, was that when they held hands, both of their hands fell at a very comfortable height, as if they were _meant_ to hold hands.

“Sorry,” said Genji, pulling his hand away from Lúcio, who let it go but smiled up at him.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” said Lúcio, shrugging.  “I mean, you still haven’t asked me or anything, but I was on the impression that we were on a date, right?”

“Yeah, I mean…”

“So, are you thinking about actually asking me, then?”

“To hold your hand?”

Lúcio raised an eyebrow.  “For the date.”

“Oh, shit.  Fuck.  Yeah, sorry.”  Genji mentally kicked himself.  “Do you, uh, want to go on a date?”

“Nah,” said Lúcio.  “I’m busy tonight.”

Genji’s heart _dropped_.  Had this been a joke?  Was it a setup?  Zen wouldn’t have pulled something like this, but he didn’t know Lena before today—maybe it was because he was staring at work and it was weird and they wanted him to stop, so they…

“I’m busy because I’m already on a date with you,” said Lúcio, gently punching Genji’s arm.  “Loosen up a little bit.  Relax.  We just met.  We’re going to have a little fun, right?”

Genji exhaled the breath he had been pinching in his mouth.  “Yeah,” he said, and he followed up with a nervous laugh.  “Hell yeah, of course.”

“Okay,” said Lúcio, his voice even and calm.  “Then what are we waiting for here?  I’m loving this banter, but I seriously am starving…”

They both broke into laughter this time, and started up again toward the little slice of Mexico in Epcot.  By the time they reached their destination—the Choza de Margarita—their hands had intertwined again, but Genji didn’t think either of them had consciously made that move.

* * *

By the time they’d finished the nachos and a couple of margaritas, the two of them had decided that their evening would be best spent with a nice walk back to the closet in Imagination, where Lúcio had left his uniform and keys.  It had gotten a little cooler as the night had progressed from the late afternoon to the evening, and the two of them leaned into one another as they walked, chatting about this and that.

Genji gradually became more comfortable around Lúcio.  There was a certain charm about him that put him at ease.  Soon enough, he had lost most—not all, but most—of the first-date jitters that he’d been running on all day.  Genji had learned things about Lúcio while they ate—that he was a DJ when he wasn’t charming children, that he was born and raised in Brazil, a fact that had led to a brief bonding over their non-American roots, that he like jalapenos but only one per chip on his nachos, and that he never really swore.

“Okay, but never?” asked Genji as they crossed over the bridge from Mexico toward the center of the park.

Lúcio shrugged.  “I’m not offended by it or anything.  I just—I mean, I’m not morally opposed or whatever.  I just don’t, normally.”

“Fuck!” said Genji, immediately after checking to make sure no kids had heard him.  A few had.  He lowered his voice considerably.  “I mean, If I learned how to fuckin’ drop the ‘adverse and vulgar language,’ as the employee handbook apparently words it, my life would be like twenty time easier.”

Lúcio shrugged.  “Never been a problem.”

“Say ‘fuck’ right now,” said Genji.

“No,” said Lúcio, “it’s childish.”

“I can tell you right now that if it was childish, Figment would get half as many fuckin’ write-ups as he does right now.”

Lúcio had to laugh at this and, they paused briefly for a gaggle of children in a large family pass by without getting separated from their parental units and their siblings.

“It’s no big deal,” said Lúcio.  “I mean, come on.”

“Exactly!  It’s not,” said Genji.  “One little ‘fuck,’ not even loud enough for the kids to hear.”  He turned to see a mother glaring daggers.  She steered her child away from the two men.  He turned back to Lúcio, muttering, “I’m not even on the fuckin’ clock, what the hell…”

“Okay, no big deal,” said Lúcio.  “I’ll say it.  But I want to make a deal, then.”

The crowd was thickening around them, and Genji for the briefest moment worried if it was not the best time to talk about profanity.  Then he rationalized that there were probably very few kids in the park at this point in the day who hadn’t already heard some sort of vulgar language from him today.  “Okay,” he said, moving closer to Lúcio to make way for a larger man who was shifting through the gathering crowd.  “What’s the deal?”

A twinge of a trickster’s smile pulled at the corner of Lúcio’s mouth.  “I’ll say it, but you have to kiss me.”

Genji’s eyes went wide.  Lúcio was being so forward, it took him off guard.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just that—well, honestly, it was what he’d really been looking forward to and hoping for ever since Lúcio started working across the square from him.  And now, he was offering…

His heart rose in his chest, and he began to speak when he was cut off by the loudspeakers, which were programmed to cut through crowds larger than the one that had gathered.

“Attention Disney guests: This is Illuminations: Reflections of the Earth!”

As soon as the announcement played, the sky split with a deafening _crack_ as five fireworks shot up from the pond in the center of the park, dazzling their way across the night sky.

Genji saw Lúcio’s lips move as he said something while the crack resonated, and he leaned in closer to better hear him.

This was then Lúcio put his arms around Genji, cupping his head and face and pulling him inward.  For a brief moment, Genji could feel his breath, warm on his own face, before their lips connect, and a second round of fireworks exploded in the sky behind them, framing hem as silhouettes in the fiery night.

Their lips locked and for all of the overthinking Genji had done earlier, as he adjusted his hand to stoke down Lúcio’s arm and cup him around the waist to pull him closer, into the kiss that seemed to last forever and that still somehow made Genji’s entire insides turn upside down.  Genji inhaled Lúcio’s sweet scent—a little sweat with some shampoo, the remnants of a fragrant deodorant, and the last lingering bits of nachos and margarita—and wished that the moment punctuated by the fireworks would just keep going on.

But they did disengage, eyes locked as they did, while the world around them was concerned only with the fireworks above them.

“Fuck,” said Genji.

This prompted them both to laughter, their hands coming together before they both leaned in, their foreheads touching, as their laughter subsided.  They held this position for a moment, and Genji wondered if either of them really processed what had just happened between them, but it didn’t matter, because it _had_ happened, and they were both here, and _fuck_ that felt good.

But speaking of…

“Wait, did you say it?” asked Genji as the ring from the most recent firework faded off into echoes.

“Yeah, I—”  He was cut off by another boom.  “—did.”

“You sneaky fucker,” said Genji.

Lúcio shrugged.  “Hey,” he said, “maybe you just shouldn’t swear at the most wonderful place on earth.”  He paused, and pulled one hand away so he could lock the remaining hand more solidly as they both turned toward the fireworks.  “Or maybe just sharing profanity is more of a second date type of thing.”

“I’ll have to ask you on one, then” said Genji.

“I guess.”

They looked into one another’s eyes and almost risked breaking down into laughter again.  The last few fireworks exploded, but the two of them were already walking back toward the Imagination building, and Genji realized that what Lúcio had said about swearing at Disney was not true at all—not swearing in a park full of children?  Probably not the best thing to do.  But tonight, it’d gotten him a kiss from the Peter Pan of his dreams and, if he didn’t chicken out, a second date to match it.  And fuck, that sounded pretty good to him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!!!
> 
> find me on twitter @allihearisradio and on tumblr @allihearisradiogaga


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